#[Pure Vessel 001]

[sapphicalexaandra]

Okay okay I will post a little thought/theory I have for s5, even though I haven't actively partecipated in a fandom in years and i just read and like all the amazing theories, but I want to just get this off my chest:

I have a strong enough feeling vecna may possess will again

I read many talk about him being "vecna'd", which is not the same thing and judging from his and will's connection, i don't feel he would need to consume him like that, but rather it seems that ever since he was young vecna selected will as a potential host/vessel for himself, based on whatever he saw in will that at this point we don't know what it is exactly

Maybe will does indeed have untapped power (and in this theory I'm going to stick to this premise, as the luke/leia parallel between el and him makes it enough likely for me), so vecna, having lost his purely human form, may have thought he would need a human vessel in the human world so that he could also operate from there. This plan didn't end up well in the past (s2)...

But now, since he got injured, he is hurt and weak, he may need will again

Let's say the season starts with everybody already determined to put an end to him in this weakened state and they all - full group together finally! - gear up to do it...

And in a Moment, something something is happening, maybe el is fighting the monsters protecting vecna and we see the shadow of the mind flayer reaching her AND at that point will steps in front of her as the sacrificial boy of my heart that he is (and vecna knew he would do that...) so there we have the shadow entering him again like in s2 (but probably worse, and anyway the possible scenarios here are many ofc) and our dear old 001/henry takes hold of will's body, grinning from ear to ear, maybe lifting el up from the ground, revealing that will has this powers and he now knows how to use them for him, so he taunts all our group, like how are you gonna stop me now without killing the precious william... and as everybody is paralized in shock he manages to flee

Cue the time skip? As they need to figure out how to fight and defeat this powered up vecna using will's body without killing will (ofc they know they need to kill his actual body, but well now he is doubly protected by an enemy they don't want to harm, vecna in will)

AND i hope in the meantime we still see the actual will, maybe trapped in his own mind or vecna's, bonus point if he finds max in there because i need them to Bond and fight vecna from the Inside

So yeah, i feel like this could bring full circle a lot of themes and elements from the 1st season, as they said they would do.

And do I even need to mention all the potential Byler Angst this could spur as mike is put back in his I Need to Save My Will mood (and el has broken up with him for all the reasons we know - she realized his feelings are not genuine and that she is actually more herself without him and needs to channel what max taught her and become her own person without unhealthy attachments that keep her dependant and small - so mike has no more channel/distraction for his True Feelings)

Also *ahem* judging how Henry treated his own mother, i wonder if he may try to kill Joyce while she tries to reach will through a motherly speech of love, and vecna almost succeeds but then will manages to get control back to save his mother and he promises he will come back, he found max and they are both trying to figure out vecnas weakness (i would ugly cry at a scene like this, with will cradling his injured mother and then leaving her with this promise before vecna gets control back)

This happens earlier on, AND THEN we have later on towards the climax a similar scene but with MIKE and oh boy, the potential throw backs to the shed scene, the fact that in this time apart mike has figured out the truth about the painting and will's feelings and has had time to fully comprehend his, so it's a struggle of vecna wanting to kill him knowing that he has the potential to wake up will more than anybody, and indeed a (proper, heartwrenching) love confession from mike in that Moment is what Does it, and combined with whatever else the others are doing to defeat vecna, the Power of True Love (the duffers love that shit they told me) saves the day and the upside down becomes a beautiful meadow of green grass and blue and yellow flowers (lmao jokees but also has anyone seen she-ra?? Catra chipped by lord prime and adora trying to get to her > "I don't matter!" "You matter to ME!" Is so will and mike Plus their ending kiss saving the universe *ahem* has been a big inspiration for all this, plus to everyone complaining that a season is not enough time to develop a byler endgame, catradora also became esplicitely romantic in the last season (s5 look at that) after being frenemies for 4 seasons and I can just see something similar being done with them)

Anyway if anyone is still here, to sum it up a possessed will would allow a lot of plot points for different characters come to fruition, joyce, johnathan, el and mike especially - like i feel this scenario/theory could be developed to infinity) and I personally would love to see noah playing vecna, imagine the juciness for such an amazing young actor of a role like that after being sidelined for two seasons

and it would really explain all the parallels between henry and will and why henry chose him at the start, because he saw himself in will and knew he would make a good vessel (plus he could have a style change as henry makes him look more how he used to be as human, lol imagine mike seeing that) (plus plus i would cry and love it at the same time)

and the super byler potential is real for me, i See it. I know many would want them to become canon before the ending, but judging by the kind of storytelling the duffers go for, i am inclined to believe they may go for a climatic Moment for them,

still, hopefully the development throughout the season on both will and mikes side of the fight (i would literally love the inside/outside struggles that converge at the same point, poeticness of this scenario) is good and satisfying enough (coming from ME though that i had a pretty good grasp of s4 as it was airing, i knew the build up WAS going towards a mike confession to el which would be what he really believed he felt in his own warped understanding of his true feelings, which allows for an arc of actually understanding it in s5, so I did feel satisfied by what they showed in the sense that i see this as an ensamble show of fighting monsters, where the emotional development is carried on through the moments in between, so no Big fanfiction style inner stream of consciousness of how every character is understanding and feeling the situations)

So really, tying the supernatural and love drama together allow for more actual focus

Anyway! This was longer than i thought. I am very very curious to see if I get anything right at all, would be definitely fun to see it

*goes back into lurking mode*

[marce-mallow]

Marcemallow’s Writing Prompts 001 (aka stories i want to read but not write)

Starting on February 4th, a girl receives a note reading ‘You looked so beautiful today <3.’ (or some other sappy love note) tied around a black rose on her doorstep.

With no name attached, she asks around at her school/work to see if anyone knows who wrote it, but no one admits.

She sets the rose in a vase and heads to bed.

The next day, another rose is left on her doorstep, another sweet message left for her.

The days go by, and every morning when she leaves for the day, she brings the black rose into her home and adds it to the vase, falling more and more in love with her secret admirer everyday.

Until February 13th, the day before the day of eating chocolate you bought for yourself and watching crappy rom-coms.

Instead of a letter probably stolen from a Conversation Heart, ‘Will you be my Valentine? Yes No’ is written on the note.

The girl circles Yes and leaves the rose out for the (hopefully not a) stranger to find.

Sometime late at night, the girl is wide awake, unable to sleep. Anxious to see who it is, she heads to her neighbors’, who’s more than a little pissed for being woken at 3:00 in the morning.

Still, she shows her the security cameras. She speeds it up until 4:50 am, when a ghostly figure enters the screen.

Her heart speeds up. It’s not who, it’s a what.

The thing was wearing a black, withered gown, a hood hiding what looked like at empty face devoid of a face. The only features were two glowing red eyes that seemed to bore right into her soul from the screen.

Her neighbor, in pure terror, recognizes it.

She tells her the urban legend of the Secret Admirer (that took literally two seconds to come up with).

It’s a demon that gives young and beautiful ladies black roses and love notes everyday leading up to Valentine’s Day Eve, when he asks them to be his Valentine. When they accept, the women unknowingly agrees to give full possession of their body to this creature, allowing him to take a human form all the way until February 4th, where he seeks to find a new vessel.

She asks the girl if she said no, but with one looks she can tell.

She already said yes.

[divorcedcastiel]

Crying screaming whats caminatural hi I wanna know so bad so I can rb things and tag this is sooo caminatural 🥺❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

omg. hi. caminatural IS cringe bc its oc based. but im free. no im not.

caminatural is a soft s1-8 rewrite and a HARD s9-15 rewrite. it centers more around angels and specifically expanding the archangels to seven: michael, lucifer, selaphiel (naomi), camiel (pure oc bc i thought no existing angel would fit), raphael, uriel, and gabriel AND also making most of them more sympathetic and more able to change. sorry i will be redeeming some bastards. more like jack will be redeeming some bastards via morality trials.

the reason its called caminatural is bc of camiel who is my BELOVED freak angel oc (cringe mode extreme). theyre inspired partially by actual biblical archangel camiel obviously and also (dont hate me i know <3) scp 001 the gate guardian. both of which wield flaming swords and are associated with eden. SPECIFICALLY i needed a hard hitting oc to necessitate most of the extreme aspects of the rewrite. so i made up an angel who mirrors lucifer (and in a lot of ways also gadreel and sam) in that they were guarding the gate of eden as THE flaming sword (not wielding it. they ARE it.) since humans were cast out, and have done nothing but stare at the horizon guarding that gate. no thoughts no interaction nothing. trapped in a role they were given by a father who forgot them entirely. they did not receive any angel software updates. they dont know whats going on until theyre in a vessel. they dont know what a CAR is. they are a walking fire hazard

[bang-to-the-tan]

Vessel Euphoria Chapter 5

► SciFi!AU

Thriller

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mind Control, Upsetting Themes Throughout, Alien Parasitism

↳ Summary: 6 months ago, the crew of the space vessel “Euphoria”—destined for a scientific study on a distant planet—dropped out of all communication. You and your fellow crewmates are inbound to reestablish communication with home base, but things are not as they seem and the fate of the mission is placed in grave danger.

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“Everything all right?”

You crane your head to look to Officer Jung. He looks tired, but the smile he gives you is still somehow reassuring. It almost works. You nod once, turning back to the observation window, moving your crossed arms more comfortably on your chest as if cold.

“Just making sure he’s out before I leave him.” you reply, gesturing vaguely to the figure curled into the barebones mattress on the far end of the quarantine room. He’s a black speck against eggshell white, curled so tightly in a fetal position you might be forgiven for missing him. Mistaking him for a smudge on the one-way glass. You can’t see his eyes from here, his black hair splayed out across his face, but he’s breathing steadily for once, mouth slightly open. He looks better after having been pushed through the shower, encouraged to eat what little he could keep down. But being clean only shows how tired and drawn he looks—a youthful face stained with worry and sorrow, even in his sleep.

“You think he’s faking?”

“I know he isn’t.” You snort, grim. “I dosed him. Sedative in what little water we could get down him. Just…” you frown. “Just making sure.”

You divert the conversation, looking back to your officer. “How’s Yoongi?”

Unease curls in your chest at his expression as he shakes his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “He’s in the sick bay. Came down with a fever not long after you and Jimin left.”

“A fever?”

“Just a reaction to the air, I think. Put him through decon twice, there isn’t anything on him that he wasn’t born with.”

“…our little hothouse orchid,” you murmur after a pause. Yoongi always did seem susceptible to whatever planetary conditions you came across. It’s not all that shocking—but a fever means he has to be minded until it clears, by protocol. He’ll be stir-crazy and grumpy as hell by the end of the week unless it lifts soon.

“Park said you found a camera?”

“Yeah. I’m downloading the files now.” You’d hooked it up to your computer the moment you could sneak it away. There were a good handful of photos and videos on it, enough to take a little while to fully download.

“You didn’t see Namjoon at all while you were up there?”

You glance back at him, but he’s watching Jungkook now, an expression of dark concern on his face. You wish, not for the first time, you could tune into what he was thinking.

“No.”

“Probably a good thing.”

“There was no evidence that anyone else had been up there as long as he had. I’m worried for what that means for the rest of the crew.”

“Try not to speculate, specialist.” He says, but his tone gives him away.

“I’ll try, sir.”

“Park’s scanning for fuel replacements at the secondary. One of us is going to have to stay behind to keep an eye on Jeon and Min, but beyond that, we’re going to keep going as planned. I’m thinking he and I head out to the primary first thing tomorrow. You alright with holding down the fort for an hour or two?”

“I don’t mind babysitting.”

“Good.”

You feel a hand on your shoulder, light, familiar. Soothing, as he rubs his thumb once and then removes it.

“We’ll figure this out.”

“I know.”

He pauses.

“Anything you find on that camera…you know you have to be objective about it.”

“…yeah.”

“Call me.”

You turn to him again, nodding. “I will.”

He mirrors the gesture before he takes a breath, throwing another glance at the observation room. He walks away, his steps echoing down the hall. You wait. Another few beats, watching Jungkook sleep.

Try not to speculate. Impossible.

Maybe Yoongi was right. Maybe there was a fight. Jungkook certainly was capable of it, even exhausted and underfed, you couldn’t miss the lithe tones of his body, the strength inherent in physically tackling Park Jimin. But it doesn’t seem to fit who he is now—never mind the soft-spoken boy from the logs. Even attacking Jimin, he wasn’t angry. He was frightened. Like he’d seen a ghost.

You leave him one last, pitying look, catching the swift twitch that curls his limbs and furrows his brow, mumbling in his sleep, muted by the observation walls. You return to your quarters to check up on the camera.

 The camera’s data is completely downloaded to your personal computer by now, so you make sure to disconnect it. You’re careful with the wires, thinking of the desperation that Jeon reached for the small device with, thinking of the comfort it would bring him to have it back. You set it gingerly on the side, settling into your chair and taking a deep, steadying breath. There could be anything on these files. You have to remember to think objectively. The best for both crews. If there’s so much as an argument on these tapes, you have to take it into consideration. Nothing need be used ‘against’ anyone until you find the rest of the crew and get their statements. Maybe Jeon really was up there for his own good. On the other hand, there could be nothing on the camera. It could be just what it was designed for—auxillary information collecting. Nothing more. Something about the way Jungkook looked at it tells you that won’t be the case. It’s hard not to think about. You’re trying.

You navigate to the first file and click play.

 The screen stutters, flashing the insignia and acquisition number of the camera.

LOG DATE: 18.2.2213

Space Vessel Euphoria Model 2C-4S

Handheld Auxiliary Camera 001

REGISTERED TO: Biology Specialist Kim Taehyung

 Dated 2 months after they’d landed. You remember the official logs. It took them just under 3 months just to set up the camp so that it was self-sustained. The terrain gave Navigations Specialist Seokjin one hell of a hard time at the start, and maintenance had to be completed with all of the crew members present—to account for debris and atmosphere contamination. It wasn’t an easy job, but they got through it with style, you’d always thought. Why would they need the camera at this time?

The official text blinks out.

The camera’s screen fizzles on.

 You’re greeted with a table. The video quality is lesser than the official devices used for status reports, but it’s good enough that you can see flecks of colored paper decorating the table. It looks like…incident reports? Torn up incident reports, colored in with highlighters so that they’re bright yellow and pink and blue.

Is that…is that confetti?

The deep giggle that comes from directly behind the camera is unmistakable, belonging to Kim Taehyung, breaking through a low murmur in the background that you immediately recognize as Officer Kim Namjoon.

“Yeah, back on earth,” Jungkook replies, his clear voice replying to whatever it was Namjoon had said with a fortitude that makes your heart ache. He sounds like the epitome of youth—confused, excited and more than a little skeptical. “Never anything professional, I guess, but…Why?”

“Ah, nothing professional, he says. I told you, Namjoon, he won’t appreciate it.” Jin’s voice comes next as the camera shifts, focusing and refocusing on the makeshift confetti as Taehyung passes it to his other hand. “We should send it back.” Jin sounds teasing, a playfully nagging tone rising in his voice that you’ve never heard before in his usually serious, stately logs.

“Send what back?” Jungkook asks, immediately perking up.

“It’s his first mission away from home, Jin, come on, don’t tease him.” Namjoon returns with a chuckle. “What do you think Tae?”

The camera lifts, panning up, and you’re treated to a sight you couldn’t possibly have expected to see. It’s not just the table covered in brightly colored slips of paper. It decorates the tiled floor, spreads across all the windows of the mess hall, lays comically in the hair of the men standing in the front of the room in a semi-circle. Namjoon with his jumpsuit tied familiarly around his waist, Seokjin with his unzipped to his collarbone, and Jungkook standing in the shorts and t-shirt issued as pajamas. Everyone has what appears to be paper hats on their heads, brightly colored the same way as the confetti. They’re all covered in the stuff, grinning ear to ear, as the two elders turn to the youngest, who stares at the camera with a peculiar look. His head cocks, brows furrowing over wide, clear eyes. Suddenly, realization sinks in and his face falls into something that speaks volumes of deep, cloying affection.

 “It took a little while to get here by space mail,” Taehyung says congenially from behind the camera. It starts moving, shifting towards Jungkook who reaches out with delicate hands, cradling the lens as though it were made of pure, antique glass that might shatter at any moment. “But it’s better than rations, right, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook’s fingers smoothe over the camera, turning it this way and that, doe-eyes inspecting it with an intentness generally reserved for lovers, his lip trembling.

“Y-you…” he mumbles, and you see his eyes are shining. “Is this really for—“

“Happy birthday, Jungkook,” Seokjin pipes in fondly. You catch a glimpse of his soft smile when he leans over.

“Sorry it’s late.”

The camera jostles, the light turning dark. Before the frame cuts out, you recognize several pairs of arms, outstretched towards Jungkook in a familiar group hug.

 END RECORDING 18.2.2213

 That wasn’t a fight.

That was Jeon Jungkook. That was the boy you’ve heard about, the one you remember from the logs, the one whose proud, shy photograph decorates the hall of fame back home. You think of the starved, wild-eyed man you had to sedate to get to sleep. The one you had to herd into the ship like a feral cat.

And the rest of the crew…the kind of people who would put in an official requisition for a biology-grade camera just for a birthday present are not the same kind of people to quarantine that same someone in a unsustained base nearly 200 kilometers away.

Something isn’t right. Something is very, very wrong.

You click on the next one.

 Everything is the same but for the date. 23.4.2213. Two months from the communications drop. You shift in anticipation, trying to clear your throat, refocus your mind.

Whatever you find here could determine the fate of both vessels’ missions. You have to keep a clear head.

 The picture sparks into frame.

It’s a bathroom, the camera pointed at the toilet. From the layout, it looks like the bathroom usually located right off the main room of your standard study base. You can hear Taehyung’s breathless, deep giggling, punctuated by heavy thuds as someone pounding on a door behind him.

“Just give it back, you dick!” Jungkook’s voice, muffled.

“No way, I need it!” Taehyung laughs, cut off by a particularly rough shove forward. The camera view sways as he moves to brace the door better, his laughter increasing in pitch and volume as the hammering gets more desperate. “It’s the only camera on this planet powerful enough to capture my magnum dong!”

There’s a pause.

“You know the status cameras have zoom-in functions, too, right?” Jungkook comments through the paneling.

Another pause. Taehyung stops his chuckling before it suddenly returns in full force.

“I’m going to flush this thing down the toilet.” He says, entirely full of intent that you’d almost take seriously if not for the way he giggles through it.

“Ah, don’t do that!! Taehyung!”

There’s another thud, and this time you can hear the cracking of plastic, the surprised yelp leaving Taehyung’s throat as the door splinters forward. The camera sways again as he rushes towards the toilet, halted and yanked backwards, the camera spinning, as another hand comes into view, reaching for the buttons on the side.

“Don’t drop it, you’ll—“ Jungkook says hurriedly, shadows fingers passing over the lens as Taehyung’s laughter rises in pitch, becoming a playful snarl.

It cuts out.

 Dick pics. Dick pics?

You blink.

Two months out from having lost all communication with home base, and they’re play-fighting over using an official camera for snapping dick pics?

You don’t even know what to make of that.

 The next one is dated a month after that. Just before the Epiphany launched. Your mission to reestablish contact.  

 “Jin. What do you have to say for the fans?” Jungkook asks, the camera spinning towards a figure hunched over a command board like some kind of dizzying talk show. Jin looks up from his position at the navigations computer, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously. The bangs of his hair have been gathered into a ponytail that makes him look like a lunatic, jutting straight up out of his head and purposely fanned at the end like a paintbrush. Even so, when he lowers his brows and stares at the camera, you can see how he got his reputation at the academy.

“I miss you,” he says, solemn, charming. “Wait for me.”

Jungkook breaks into a laugh, hand darting into frame to play with the ponytail while Jin stays, unmoving, unblinking, staring into the camera. He shifts, pressing his hand to his lips, eyes closing, before he unleashes a flying kiss directly into the lens, head thrown back with a deep air of drama.

“I love you,” he adds, while Jungkook threatens to implode in the background, the video shaking as he laughs.

“How long are you going to keep the ponytail?” he asks absently, flicking it between his fingers.

“It looks good, doesn’t it? My hair’s getting long.” Seokjin turns back to the controls, dropping the flirty persona with an immediacy prized by full-time actors. “With Taehyung sick, I can’t get him to cut it. It’s impossible to see with it all in my face.”

“I’ll cut it for you.”

“No.” His response is immediate, deadpan, almost warning.

“Or you could ask Namjoon.”

“I might as well shave it all off at that point.”

“Please.”

“I’ll just cut it myself.”

Jungkook laughs again, bright, reaching out to mess with the ponytail some more.

The video ends.

 You lean back in your chair, slowly trying to process what you’ve seen.

On the one hand, there’s no evidence of a fight. Not that these few videos means there was never any tension between the crew, but…you aren’t seeing the professional, upright men who left on a mission to the stars. You’re watching a family. It reminds you of yours.

And at least as recently as your crew being sent out to repair communications, they were seemingly fine. No mention of any issues—technical or interpersonal. You didn’t even know that Kim Taehyung had fallen ill during the mission.

That means they didn’t stop checking in. It means the messages just never reached central command. Something happened to stop the messages from transmitting. Several months’ worth of messages. They’re meant to be broadcasted in real time. If there was a malfunction, they would have used auxillary to record logs in the meantime, presumably while Jungkook repaired the issue. Not doing so means…

Realization dawns slowly on you, coils ice in your belly, and you turn the computer monitor off in order to grab your comm, punching in Hoseok’s private line.

“Officer Jung, speaking.” He answers immediately. “What’s up?”

“Sir. I was going over the logs from the auxillary camera.” He’s quiet for a moment. “…what did you find?”

“I have reason to believe that the communications dropping wasn’t an accident.”

“What?” He sounds taken aback, replying immediately.

“Hoseok, communications didn’t just break. There’s a gap—I think someone was stopping the messages from going through to central.”

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[bonepranks-a]

* verses

aight so since i put most interactions into their own verses, i have like a million, and oftentimes certain interactions will sorta create new ones. so i’m going to attempt to list all the verses i have. i will specify if they’re with specific people. (i may use the word timeline instead, they are generally the same thing, but sans will always refer to it as a timeline whereas i will usually call it a verse.) also, as you know, i don’t tag my verses -- but it’s helpful to know.

this is well over 1500 words so i’m gonna just stick it under a cut. i listed the people who have specific verses in the tags so u can read it if you want??? i mean everyone is encouraged to read it but yKNOW. up to you guys <3

GENERIC VERSES

pre-undertale sans and papyrus grow up in hotland with gaster. sans works as his lab assistant/apprentice. gaster falls into the core, “dies”, the boys leave hotland and move to snowdin.

neutral/post-neutral in the flawed pacifist ending (aka the one that allows you to load from your last save and do the pacifist stuff), sans continues living in snowdin, life continues as normal until a reset happens. for all other neutral variants, see this post.

genocide for obvious reasons, stuff in this verse will only take place during the events of a genocide run, as sans dies. however, in a verse where this is not the first genocide run, certain events may change, including but not limited to an aborted genocide where frisk doesn’t come back after sans kills them, and life continues. this will look a lot like any other neutral run where papyrus is dead, but he’s more fucked up probably.

pacifist/post-pacifist the pacifist route goes as it does in canon. afterward, sans goes to the surface with everyone else. however, he makes frequent trips back underground, both to help other people move, and to visit those who decided to stay behind. 

abandoned pacifist/deltarune in a pacifist ending that occurs after many different routes and countless resets (many of which sans remembers), sans accepts the futility of seeking a real ending of any sort of happiness. he manages to find a way to leave his timeline. he does not believe that this is the end, and is afraid of what will happen if frisk resets again. he has never tried it before, and his method is purely theoretical, but he manages to take papyrus and escape the timeline before anything bad can happen. he leaves a seemingly peaceful and happy life on the surface, and ends up in the deltarune world. papyrus’ memories of their past life have somehow been erased (perhaps for the best), and sans is torn between relief that they seem to be safe now, and guilt for leaving everyone else behind without a word. he actually fakes his and papyrus’ deaths simply so that no one worries about them or tries to come looking. he’s not particularly happy, but he can’t find a way to go back either. he buys the grocery store and tries to find answers about why he ended up in this specific world that is so unlike the one he knows, and yet eerily familiar at the same time.

CHARACTER-SPECIFIC VERSES

vertebralheights 001 bo and sans meet as children when her father and gaster worked together. they hit it off, but after all the other skeletons leave hotland, she and sans lose contact. it’s only many years later that they reconnect quite by accident, and they don’t even recognize/remember each other until they find old notes and photos that jog their memories. they meet pre-undertale, and their relationship continues long into a positive neutral ending. as sans learns more about resets and their circumstances, he begins to do research, and bo helps him out. if this is a situation where alphys has disappeared, they move back to hotland and continue work there. eventually, pacifist happens or whatever, maybe they go to the surface, we haven’t really gotten that far.

vertebralheights 002 the origin is the same as in 001. however, it diverges into any ending where papyrus is dead. sans runs away to vertebral heights and stays with bo -- they come to the same conclusions about how they used to know each other. sans is determined to find a way to stop the resets - but only once papyrus is back alive. if this is also an ending where alphys is gone, they eventually go to the lab in this verse too.

vertebralheights 003 after bo’s parents die, she contacts sans and comes back to hotland. she stays with the bros and gaster up until gaster’s “death”, and when they do eventually part ways, they slowly lose touch but don’t forget about each other. they probably reconnect again post-pacifist when sans stumbles across VH.

cynicalborne 001 ( paired with mercy-heart 001 ) post-pacifist, sans and papyrus choose not to stay in the town the monsters have set up (though he and papyrus pay frequent visits), and move to nyc. sans buys a closed down bodega and runs it, living in the apartment above. sans also somewhat accidentally befriends a human named os. they somehow hit it off, and when he loses his job and apartment, papyrus invites him to stay with him and sans. as time goes on, sans and os completely fall in love. other than cryptic warnings from gaster that they should not be together and that sans needs to focus on finding a way to prevent further fresets, life is pretty good.

cynicalborne 002 sans and os still know each other - they’re even friends, but their lives are very separate. os is still working more or less as an arson for hire, and he attacks the monster town that’s popped up. sans finds out, and shit goes down. 

mercy-heart 001 post-pacifist, sans visits frisk frequently, though he does not live in the monster town on the surface. one day, chara manages to take control of frisk’s body and gives sans a cryptic warning about how this happiness won’t last. he laters finds out through them and through dream messages from gaster that the only way to prevent further resets is to take away the vessel the player is using -- aka destroy frisk beyond saving. make it so that they cannot reset or reload at all, by literally erasing them from existence. sans refuses to do this however, and tries to find a way to simply disconnect the player from frisk’s soul, or removing only the ability to save and reset.

mercy-heart 002 more or less the same, it’s post-pacifist, except sans does stay in the monster town and probably ends up getting together with toriel because his love for her knows no bounds. life is good, there’s no players interfering, they can just be a happy family, and sans can just help frisk cope with their own depression without worrying about everything else.

we-believe-in-you-crew 001 sans meets bonny when she arrives in snowdin -- due to his promise to toriel he decides not to hurt her. instead, he helps her as best he can, encouraging her to stay in snowdin with him and papyrus and not to venture too far away for fear she might be killed. they eventually catch feelings for each other, and while they both know it, they never do much about it. everything is very subtle with them - mainly because sans knows they’re living on borrowed time. when she eventually makes it to new home, sans mercy kills her in the judgement hall because he can’t stand the thought of her being killed by asgore. 

primaautomaworld / qvietstcrm 001 (these are just getting lumped together because they happen in the same verse.) sans and mettaton used to be childhood friends, back when alphys worked under gaster and mettaton visited frequently as a lil ghostie. he would often play with sans and papyrus, and he and sans even had lil crushes on each other, not that anything ever came of it. however, once mettaton became corporeal and moved on to becoming a star (and after gaster’s disappearance as well), they completely lost touch. it’s only much later that sans calls up mettaton and invites him to stop by snowdin. the reunion between all three of them is really really good, and mtt and sans start up the flirting hardcore until they finally do just get together. MEANWHILE IN PAPYRUS LAND, he starts going out with a siren from waterfall named storm. sans meets them one day during work, invites them back for dinner, storm and papyrus hit it off really well, and the rest is history. it’s really cute uwu  

fluersamour 001 sans and chara.... knew each other before she died. they would play together along with papyrus and asriel when gaster had meetings with asgore and brought the kiddos. they weren’t necessarily close friends, but they were pleasant. good companions. over the course of genocide routes, they’re constantly fighting and she’s killed sans multiple times. it’s a thing. but eventually, it stops. they reach a stalemate. they don’t want to kill each other anymore. and eventually, they start talking again. about the past. about her time in the void, and meeting gaster. it’s not exactly normal friendship but it’s.... something.

[mercyleft]

001. Becoming the Beast  /  Changing Forms

               wirt  &  gregory both died on the same day that they disappeared, to them they were gone for days, in the real world that time that passed was mere minutes due to the unknown being a different reality than the normal world. to the real world, they simply disappeared  ━  no bodies were ever recovered, it was as if they vanished without a trace. gregory’s body turned into an edelwood tree that still sits at the edge of a riverbank where he passed. wirt’s fate was far different, though.

wirt did not technically die until long after he became the beast, he first was subjected to intense feelings of grief  &  depression, having just lost his younger brother,  &  these emotions consumed him. normally, a soul in the unknown is broken down until their hope for survival is lost  &  then the dulled soul is consumed by the beast  &  their body turns to edelwood. in wirt’s case, his emotions turned from grief into anger so quickly that his soul corrupted before it could expire.

the process of a soul losing hope causes the soul to become weak to consumption, making an easy meal for a grim reaper, but a soul that is corrupted by it’s own intense negative emotions causes it to become fickle  &  difficult to capture, therefore difficult to consume. normally, you would simply wait for this intense anger to die out  &  target the soul as the emotion is at it’s weakest, but the rage in his soul only got deeper  &  darker.

corruption comes in levels, some kinds fade away on their own, but others grow so dark that they become evil entities all on their own. the unknown is a place where negative emotions  &  evil spirits thrive,  &  eventually the intense negative emotions that originally corrupted wirt’s soul became so strong that they turned him into a new kind of beast.

because of how negativity  &  the unknown work in unison  &  link together so well, being bound to the place was his way of drawing up enough temporary strength to kill the original beast himself. while this act was mostly out of pure vengeance  &  rage, it did allow him to consume the soul of the beast, which was what made him into a grim reaper himself.

this was the point that wirt officially died, which allowed his human vessel to begin to rot away, as a dead body would. wirt has the ability to change his form in a few different ways; he can appear living  &  human, he can appear as a shadowy entity, or he can simply appear as a flesh vessel of his former self that is slowly rotting away. he most often appears as a vessel form, because despite being disturbing, it takes the least amount of energy to maintain. 

[egarotss]

A Transatlantic Crossing With the Queen Mary 2 - Part 1

Driving up to the Port of Southampton's Mayflower Terminal and getting first look at the white-and-dark hulled Queen Mary 2, the biggest, longest, tallest, heaviest, and most costly boat at any point assembled, evoked impressive energy and wonderment. Docked to port at a 50-degree, 54.25' north scope and 001-degree, 25.70' west longitude and confronting a 116.4-degree compass heading, the 17-decked leviathan, with a 1,132-foot length and 148-foot width, included a gross load of 151,400 tons and overshadowed the structures with its overhang lined façade, obscuring it with its 236.2-foot stature. Its draft expanded 33.10 feet underneath the water line. The drifting city, complete with its staterooms, eateries, shopping arcades, libraries, theaters, and planetariums, would connect, in six days, the European and North American landmasses, the comparable in hours to the term of the ethereal intersection by 747-400, itself then the world's biggest business aircraft. However, the maritime intersection would yield mutual respect, refinement, restoration, enthusiastic fix, and return to the more slow, yet more rich period of steam transport travel-an excursion, I would before long discover, would prompt a quest for the oceanic history of the past which had made the innovation of the present.

Not at all like the multiplication of present day voyage ships with their nearly lower speeds and more prominent volume, square-calculation bodies, the Queen Mary 2 had been planned as a cutting edge replacement to the 35-year-old Queen Elizabeth 2 and, in that capacity, would have to bring to the table that very all year, traveler conveying abilities, predominately in the harsh North Atlantic, with a plan which forfeited income creating volume and lower development expenses of the customary journey transport for the necessary wellbeing, speed, and solidness of the sea liner. Resultantly, it highlighted a similar angular body setup normal for the long queue of its Cunard archetypes, built of thicker steel which conveyed a 40-percent more prominent expense than those of regular journey ships. Planned by Stephen Payne, whose motivations for the bow had come from the Queen Elizabeth 2 and the brake divider from the Normandie, it was the principal fourfold screw North Atlantic sea liner since the France of 1962. Payne himself, a maritime designer brought up in London, had been associated with the Carnival Holiday, Carnival Fantasy, and Rotterdam VI activities. The last mentioned, joining a changed Staten dam frame, had highlighted a less "square shaped" body shape than the customary journey transport, however had still been extensively eliminated a full liner plan.

Planned for the essential Southampton-New York course, it consolidated dimensional limitations directed by the United States port, including a pipe tallness which cleared the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge by just ten feet and a general length which surpassed the 1,100-foot dock of the Port of New York by 34 feet.

Built by Alstom Chanters de l'Atlantique in St. Nazaire, France, which had additionally assembled the Normandie, and assigned structure G32 by the shipyard, it had been the main Cunard liner at any point built outside of the United Kingdom and, as Concorde, the world's quickest and up until recently just supersonic aircraft, turned into the subsequent British-French cooperative transportation project expected for overseas assistance, in spite of the fact that through boundlessly unique, if not inverse, modes.

Its inside offered unrivaled space and solace. Of the 17 decks, the initial four were intended for hardware, stockpiling, and the 1,254-in number group; 13 were for the 2,620 travelers; and eight contained overhang staterooms. Eminent components incorporated a Grand Lobby, the Royal Court Theater, the Illuminations Theater and Planetarium, the Connections Internet Center, the Queen's Ballroom, a Winter Garden, nine significant cafés, 11 bars and parlors, a 8,000-volume library and book shop, an Oxford University address program, exhibitions by the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, five pools, sports settings, a Canyon Ranch Spa, a structure of shops, and a discotheque. These arrangements would comprise my "home" for the following six days.

Emblematically reflected by its more modest QE2 archetype berthed an extensive separation from its bow at the Queen Elizabeth 2 Terminal, the Queen Mary 2 addressed a two-overlay net weight increment over its prior age partner and, without a doubt, followed its ancestry back to a long way of Cunard vessels which had crossed a 165-year time frame. I by one way or another detected that the unavoidable intersection would not exclusively be an excursion of distance, however a return on schedule.

Tenderly vibrating at its spine, the behemoth along the side isolated itself underneath from its billet beneath the metallic cloudy at 1810, nearby time.

Not at all like the traditional motor propeller shaft innovation of more established age sends, the Queen Mary 2 was fueled rather by four rearward, frame underside-mounted Rolls Royce Mermaid electric-engine cases, each weighing 260 tons and containing four fixed-pitch, 9,900-pound, hardened steel sharp edges, and all things considered delivering 115,328 torque. The forward, detachable pair was fixed and given forward and toward the back impetus, while the rearward, inboard pair included 360-degree azimuth capacity and gave both drive and controlling, hindering the requirement for the rudder. The trend setting innovation framework diminished both intricacy and weight and expanded inner body volume by wiping out the customary motor design's related gear.

Three Rolls Royce variable-pitch, cross over propeller bow engines, altogether creating 15,000 strength, given port and starboard bow House Moving Services From Ireland To UK ability at velocities of up to five bunches. At eight bunches, when their adequacy had been surpassed, they were covered by 90-degree pivoting, liquid powerful entryways.

Driven by double water-sprout shooting towing boats, the behemoth ocean liner started its blundering development down the bowl. Keeping a 11.5-tie forward speed in the Solvent, it initiated its starboard abandon 140 degrees at Cal shots Reach at 1907, ready for the comparable move at Brambles.

Packed into dim, the sun projected its shining orange streaks outward through the slender, unhampered strip on the western skyline. Expecting a 220-degree heading through the Thorn Channel, the Queen Mary 2 started its starboard go to adjust the Isle of Wight.

The main supper on board the exquisite, oceanic designing victory had been served in the 1,351-seat, three-story-high, double level Britannia Restaurant which had included a terrific, clearing flight of stairs, section upholds, and a vaulted, illuminated, stained discriminatory constraint and was suggestive of and motivated by the fantastic lounge area salons of the twentieth century French liners, for example, the Ile-de-France, the L'Atlantique, and the Normandie. The actual supper, served on Wedgwood bone china and in Waterford precious stone, had included white zinfandel wine; cream of blended mushroom soup with parmesan bread garnishes; dry rolls and margarine; oak leaf and Boston salad with shaved carrots and sherry vinaigrette dressing; rack of pork with wild mushroom ragout, truffle pureed potatoes, morel sauce, and sauerkraut; warm apple strudel with cognac sauce; and espresso.

The slim line of orange lights illustrating the coast followed itself behind the harsh. Keeping a 27-tie speed and a 250-degree heading, the stone consistent, 151,000-ton designing mass utilized the dark channel and started its extraordinary circle course, from Bishop's Rock in the Scilly Isles. Ahead lay the limitless Atlantic-and the way manufactured by all of Cunard's past transoceanic liners. Tomorrow, I would start following the recorded one.

Day Two:

First light welcomed the extended liner as a passage of indistinct, damp dim. Encased between the bleak cloud arch above and the naval force ocean record beneath, which spat intermittent white covers, the dark and-red piped vessel infiltrated the dampness immersed morning, the downpour discharging sky and the twirling, eddying ocean converging into consistent, wind-stormy, transport besieged douse.

Any undesired development, notwithstanding, was rapidly, and undetectably, hosed by the two sets of 15.63-square-meter Brown Bros/Rolls Royce balance stabilizers which were constrained by gyroscopic vertical reference instruments and stretched out the extent that 15 feet from the frame to check transport roll.

Diving into 348-meter-profound waters 98 nautical miles off of Ireland around early afternoon, the Queen Mary 2 had navigated 418 miles since its takeoff from Southampton yesterday.

Current climate involved discontinuous, light downpour with a clockwise development toward the west, anticipated to drop to drive 4. The current power 5, new breeze out of the south, combined with a 11.2-degree Celsius air temperature, conveyed a 994-millibar pressure. The ocean, with a moderate 4 state, kept a 10-degree Celsius temperature.

Evening tea, held in the Queen's Room, had been a British custom and a wonderful irregularity among lunch and supper served on each Cunard crossing, the last close to home one of which had been the 2002 eastward excursion on the Queen Elizabeth 2. The Queen's Room itself, the biggest assembly hall adrift, highlighted a curved roof, twin gem crystal fixtures, a velvet blue and gold drape over the symphony stage, a 1,225-square-foot dance floor, a live harpist, and little, round tables seating up to 562. The present show included egg, ham and cheddar, cucumber, tomato, hamburger, and fish finger-sandwiches, scones with thickened cream and jam, and strawberry cream tarts.

Evening tea adrift could follow its ancestry back about 165 years. Einstein's hypothesis of relativity by one way or another appeared to apply. Suspended between mainland, landmass, and populace, the boat appeared to be gotten inside a void, a captured twist in which history appeared to be caught and in which the vessel reconnected with its past, as it by and by replayed it, a partition from the present ashore and a way to deal with its past on the ocean. For more information visit our website http://ireland-direct.com/

[rogueandcr-blog]

Headcanon #001–– Captive

Note: Developed from an ask meme about headcanons (which I will link back to this later) and some parts of the novelization I had highlighted for this specific reason.

* = Comes directly from the novelization, and I am in no way claiming credit for these two quotes in particular. 

**Warning**: I am putting this under a read more and tagging it with trigger warnings, but I’d also like to let you know here that this headcanon deals with subject matter that may be triggering. Mentions of violence, blood, and somewhat graphic description of torture. Also though it is never directly addressed as such, there are implications of ptsd as well. Please take caution before reading, because your comfort and safety is most important to me. Thanks!

When things went wrong, he was quickly learning they went wrong fast, and most of the time there would be little or no warning. One moment, he was ducking behind a building to meet with one of his informants, the next he was flat on his back with a blaster pressed to his forehead. If he could have looked about two meters to his left, he would have seen his informant in a similar predicament. He had been lead into a trap.

The trooper holding him down lifted the blaster from his head, and Cassian closed his eyes, prepared for this to be it. Nothing. Just as he opened his eyes once more, he caught the gleam of sunlight reflecting off the handle just before it came down an inch from his temple.

He woke up in a dark cell. Alone.

Leev, the informant he was supposed to meet, was nowhere in sight. Everything was silent but the ragged, unsteady intervals of breath he took. He could not remember how long he sat in dark silence, hours even days perhaps.

He was sure he would die of dehydration in that cell, when finally two troopers and an Imperial officer decided to pay their rebel prisoner a visit.

“They're requesting your presence for this,” the officer drawled– he sounded bored by the whole situation, as though it was some menial task he would have rather pawned off on some underling.

Cassian was forced out of the cell and into a sterile, white refresher, where he was hastily ordered to “wash up and make yourself presentable,” by one of the helmeted figures. When Cassian dared to ask why it mattered so much, he was given the cryptic response, “you’ll find out soon enough.”

Once he was as presentable as he could be while emaciated, he was all but dragged to another cell. While this one was not unlike the previous, it was better lit and clean, where the other was dark and reeked of filth. Here he was given water and something that could barely be considered edible, but to Cassian it was easily one of the best things he'd tasted. Given the command to wait, he was once more drowned in silence, only this time it was broken before he had the chance to question much of anything.

The same officer as before walked through the door, taking a deliberate step out of the wall and against the wall, making room for the cloaked figure that followed.

Looming over every trooper Cassian had encountered, this person brought with them an air of intimidation. Cassian’s mouth went as bone dry as it had been only minutes prior, as he kept his eyes trained on the newest arrival making their way towards him.

An intense unease fell over Cassian, as though the stranger was staring straight at him, but they quickly turned their head back toward the officer.

“Bring him in.”

The officer snapped his fingers and in seconds, Leev stood before them– no, not standing, being held up by two troopers at each arm. He looked worse for wear, like he'd spent the majority of his time in captivity being put through the ringer. When he looked to Cassian, his eyes were pleading– pleading not for the guards to have mercy on him, but for Cassian, for him to find a way to get them out of there. Cassian knew he could show no sign of recognition, so instead he gave Leev a stony glance and nothing more.

“Do you know this man?” a deep voice asked from behind he black helmet. It took Cassian a moment to realize it was him being addressed.

“I saw him as I was walking home from the market. Before I was arrested.” A whimper escaped Leev at Cassian’s cover. Cassian silently questioned this strange gesture.

The noise from under the helmet– one which Cassian finally deduced belonged to the elusive Darth Vader, whom many on the rebel base spoke of in hushed tones– was even less reassuring. It sounded almost like a chuckle cut short by a heavy, mechanical breath. “You can spare the petty lies, Captain. Your little spy here told my associate you were meeting him to discuss sensitive information sent from the former Senator Organa.”

Cassian did not dare respond this time, only a bit fearful he would meet the same fate as Leev. The foolish child Cassian once was would have made a smart remark, accusing the other man of lies, but he was now nineteen and a Captain. If he fell for such provocation, all of his training would have been for nought.

“I was hoping if I reunited the two of you, maybe we could all hear that message you were sent to deliver.” Once more he was being tested– if he spoke, so much as uttered a word, he would most likely be struck where he stood. If he could hold out, maybe they would hold out too.

“No? You won't tell me? Perhaps I could loosen your tongue a bit. After all, if this man is to be believed, he spoke rather fondly of your way with words.”

The only true liar in the room was the Lord Vader. Leev did not know Cassian’s true identity, for that he was certain, nor who the message was from. Somehow, the masked man had obtained this information during the time Cassian spent in the cell.

Even still, Cassian did not dare open his mouth, utter a single word. Instead, his muscles tensed, braced for whatever method of extraction the man was prepared to use on him.

What happened next Cassian would never forget.

Leev let out a shriek of pure agony, unlike any sound Cassian had heard from a human before. If he was not being held up, he would have surely crumpled to the floor, doubled over in excruciating pain. His face was a horrible shade of red, a blood vessel throbbing on the left side of his forehead as he made unintelligible begging sounds.

Cassian tried to look away, but when he made to lower his head, he felt an invisible hand reach out to keep it firmly level with the scene in front of him. With gritted teeth, Cassian made every effort to fight against it, feeling the hand grip tighter until he tasted blood on his tongue.

“You will look at him, Captain Andor. You will watch him tear his own mind apart ‘til you feel ready to tell me more about this message.”

So this was it. Lord Vader was controlling both Cassian and Leev with the force. Cassian knew several Imperial leaders possessed these great abilities, but the young captain had never seen them used in such a violent manner. What he had seen before had come from rebels, Fulcrum and Jarrus of an off-base rebel cell, but nothing they had done had brought about anything like this. This was far from the peaceful defenders he had encountered, far from anything he had seen before.

“You can stop this any time, Cassian. You’ve become a prisoner to your mind, but it’s okay to let that go.” Vader’s tone was suddenly more calm, less demanding, and it frightened Cassian more than anything. It was as though the man was inside his head, playing with his mind until Cassian could bear it no longer. But even so, he was not the one truly being hurt in that moment, and it weighed on him that Leev would surely die if Cassian did not speak up.

He couldn’t, though, or at least that was what he told himself. If he caved, they would both be killed, as soon as the Empire got what they wanted. Everything Cassian had spent years fighting for would have been in vain. Still his silence persisted.

And all too suddenly, everything else went silent around him too, Leev’s cries cut off as though his breath had been taken from him.

“You clearly need to think this through–” Vader left the sentence open, like he was not sure whether he wished to say anything more or not. With a twitch of his hand, the slightest of movements, Leev gave a choking cry before his head fell lifelessly against his chest. A wave of the hand, and the troopers were out the door, dragging the man between them as though they were not phased at all by the actions of their leader. For all Cassian knew, this happened all too often that it had become a regular occurrence. Cassian, though–– for him this was all new.

Vader turned to the officer still standing by the door. “Take him back to the cell. We will try again after he’s had some time to weigh his options.” Seconds later, the officer had him by the arm, leading him back the way he had come. As he passed the dark figure, he was stopped momentarily. “Do try to understand, it would be wise for you to comply next time we meet.” Again Cassian bit the inside of his cheek, staring straight ahead through the open door. Vader must have waved them away like he had with the troopers, as he once more was being escorted back to the prison cell.

~~~

He was there once more for only a fraction of his original wait, when a rebel explosion caused a commotion large enough for Draven and a small extraction team to get Cassian to safety. Three weeks in med bay for malnourishment and psych evaluations– and two firm scoldings from his superior officers later– and he was back to work, being briefed for his next assignment. A scar just below his bottom lip was quickly covered up as Cassian willingly refused to shave the facial hair grown over the mark. A physical reminder hidden from prying eyes.

Years later, the week spent on the star destroyer still influenced so much of his life, of the decisions he made in the field. Where Leev once stood was now Tivik, the frightened informant with a wounded arm, who would be Cassian’s downfall if he let them get too close once more. Remembering Leev and the endless torture he was put through right in front of Cassian’s eyes, he knew his decision to pull the trigger was the right one.

They would’ve caught you, Tivik. You would’ve broken. You would’ve died. And neither of us would deliver your message.*

Days later, on Jedha, he found himself in a prison cell once more. When prompted by Chirrut to calm down, once more Cassian found himself lying. He told the man and his friend he had never been imprisoned before. It was a lie he’d taught himself to tell, only a month after he had returned to the base from his capture. The less people knew about his past, the easier it was to pretend it had never happened. The easier it became to push the past aside, the less shame burdened his mind whenever he closed his eyes and saw Leev’s tortured expression play out across his eyelids.

The guardian’s next comment struck a chord, reminded him too much of the words a man clothed in black once used to coax a secret out of him. Cassian turned away this time, was given the freedom to ignore this man’s words, but it did not prove that easy. Chirrut had seen enough to know Cassian had lied to him, probably knew that his words had hit deeper than he intended, because he spoke no more.

One more payment.*

[potterleonn-blog]

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The right formulation and the right amounts of ingredients contained in the product is crucial as they're the essential factors that creates the efficiency of the product, and may be conjointly https://forums.envato.com/u/wadeejuriya/activity be crucial as they could bring negative effects to the user. It will perpetually be the male ego which p https://www.quora.com/profile/Wadee-Juriya roduces phenomenon such as male sexual enhancement. Male enhancement has grown popularly well especially during this age when individuals are turning into a lot of attuned and crucial of their physical well-being. This comparatively new advancement in the medicine http://senior-formation.com/index.php?page=item&id=110473 world has brought controversy in addition to an intense hype over what is very essential and what's more acceptable. 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